Where We Love is Home
by FairyTale87
Summary: AU "Come home with me, Addie." Mark/Addison/Derek.
1. From the Looks to the Lightning

_Where We Love is Home_

_One _

'_From the Looks to the Lightning'_

The walls around her seemed to be closing in, the coolness of the railing she grasped freezing her hands. The elevator made her feel dizzy, and the goddamn door wouldn't slide closed—she was vulnerable, and all the world could see it if they passed by. Why wouldn't it close? Addison didn't know how much longer she could keep back the tears and shakiness; she didn't feel like a Shepherd, nor did she feel like a Montgomery. She was simply Addison, with no last name to connect her to a home. Seattle wasn't forgiving, and New York had no room for her nostalgia. Where was she to go?

As her mind began to spin into oblivion, the door finally began to close, and she breathed a sigh of relief. But then Mark slipped in, his agile body elegant and so well known to her. Addison was never one to give in to hopeless romantic sentiment, but Mark was comfort—the embodiment of every feeling and look Derek was supposed to have towards her. She hadn't wanted it to be Mark who loved her, but when she had realized it, she knew she wouldn't resist. And here he was now in front of her, so devoted, so attentive. He pressed the emergency stop button, his crystal blue eyes never leaving hers. Addison held her breath, not wanting this moment to be changed. Her wedding ring coiled around her finger like a furious serpent, and all she wanted was to throw it to the ground.

"Come home with me, Addie," Mark said gently, oddly keeping his distance, "that's where you belong." His words were so genuine, his eyes so caring. Addison had never taken Mark to be a man of pure devotion, but he had been there for her more times than Derek had even been home when she was. He was a compelling man, with many more layers than Addison had ever anticipated. And in this moment, she wanted to say yes to him; say that she agreed her place was with him. But something kept her lips closed, the words caught in her throat.

"Mark," she warned weakly, her eyes falling to her black Jimmy Choos—the ones Mark had given her last Christmas. Her heart faltered, and she felt her hands begin to tremble. Keeping them wrapped tightly around the elevator's railing, she conjured up the bravery to look at him again. His features hadn't changed yet.

"Your marriage is over, Addison. It's just a fact. Derek doesn't deserve you—and you don't deserve the way he ignores you. Your place is back in New York with me. _I _love you. So come home with me, and let me love you. You should be happy." His lulling eyes searched her features thoroughly for some evidence of hesitation, and Addison knew he wouldn't find any. Her heart screamed and pleaded for her to say yes.

"And you think I'd be happy with you?" Addison wasn't trying to accuse him of anything, but she knew that's how her tone had come off. She instantly regretted it. She could have a marvelous life with Mark—there was no doubt in her mind. But would it last? How long could he be solely with her, and not long for anyone else? How long until his victory over Derek would fade away and she'd be alone again? Addison couldn't jump into a relationship with all of these lingering questions. They terrified her. She couldn't dedicate herself to Mark while the security she felt with Derek was still possible. Addison craved stability; it was the one thing her parent's relationship never truly had. They had been on the verge of divorce too many times for Addison to count on ten fingers. With Mark, would it be any different than that?

"Yes, I truly think you would," Mark replied firmly, sincerity filling every crevice in his voice. He loved her. If Addison had never fully realized it, in this moment she did. He'd come all the way from New York for her; he'd toughed out a vengeful punch from Derek; he'd risked every shred of dignity he had to come and find her. If that wasn't true love, Addison didn't know what was. In some twisted, horridly warped Disney fantasy, Mark was her knight in shining armor. He was the prince with the castle and loving arms. It hardly made any sense to her, but as she looked into his blue eyes, she knew there was no denying it. Mark Sloan was the man Addison had dreamt about since she was a child—he was everything she needed him to be and then some. So why couldn't she say yes?

"Mark," she sighed wistfully, "we tried living together. You still cheated, we still fought, and I think we both spent more time mending our wounds in bars than actually spending time together." She stopped there. She didn't want him thinking their entire relationship had been miserable—because if she was truly honest with herself, the fights and heartache were what kept her fire burning. Mark kept her alive. "It's not that I don't want to say yes. It's just that—do you really think we'd make it?" Addison was feeling too vulnerable for her own comfort level, but as Mark moved closer to her, she felt all resistance to it slip away. She wanted no more than to fall into his arms, and cry and vent about everything that had happened to her recently. Mark always listened—he didn't just hear her. That was the major difference between him and Derek. Sure Derek would sit with her some nights and hold her as she cried, but the interest level was never really there. With Mark, he was there for her before she even knew she had something to cry about. No matter what it was, how big or small, Mark was there.

"I think if we really want this, we can have it. It's never been a game with you, Addie. You were never some one-night-stand, or something to be won. I never asked to fall in love with my best friend's wife, but I did. I want only to be with you." Mark breathed deeply, stepping even closer to her. Addison forgot how to properly function. "And if you think staying in Seattle is what you need, then I'll stay right here with you. I don't care where we are, as long as we're together."

Addison had no idea how to reply to that. She'd never heard him speak like that. He wasn't trying to get her into bed, he wasn't trying to be cocky, and he wasn't trying to steal her from Derek. He was just a man in love, trying to hold on to the woman he harbored the feelings for. Addison's heart rate quickened, and she felt all the doubt slip out of her mind. Maybe it wasn't smart for her to do that. In fact, she knew it wasn't smart; or logical. Mark always did have a way with words. But all of her hesitations and insecurities faded into nothing as she stared at his clear and light blue eyes. They didn't loom as Derek's did; they didn't feel like a burden.

"Alright," she breathed, feeling just as shocked as Mark looked. A smile grew on his face, and it was too contagious for Addison to contain herself. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and it felt more like home than it ever had with Derek. She was done with brooding over love long since passed. Mark was here, in the present, loving her more genuinely and fully than Derek ever had or ever could. She dug her forehead into the crevice between Mark's collarbone and shoulder, just taking in the experience. He still smelled of his Armani aftershave. "Just—just promise me that this time will be different." She had to say it. Had to at least convince herself she had some logic left in her. Mark kissed the top of her head, and she could feel him nod.

"I promise." The words were like fire after being caught outside on a freezing December day. Addison leaned more of her weight on him, and there was no space between their chests now. For all she cared, this elevator could be home; as long as she had him, it didn't matter where she was. He was all the shelter she needed.

* * *

So I've been re-watching the older seasons of Grey's Anatomy, and my Mark/Addison heart is in utter mourning. I know there is absolutely no chance they will ever get together, but I will stay forever with my delusional ship. And for anyone who actually reads this, this is my first time ever writing GA characters, so if they're a bit OOC, I really do apologize for that. Not sure if I will continue this; I guess I'll see what kind of response it gets.

_Reviews are love!_


	2. Let the Dirges Play

_Where We Love is Home_

_Two_

'_Let the Dirges Play'_

It was raining. Again. Being in Seattle almost made Addison forget what the sun looked like. Staying here would surely make her rust. New York was where she had to be—a place where rain was only one of many types of weather. Standing outside of the trailer though, something compelled her to forget the rain. Something deep within made her want to call the claustrophobic contraption hers. She wouldn't allow herself to do that though. Addison Shepherd was soon to be Addison Montgomery again; she was already beginning to pull her wedding band off of her finger. The grass was wet and squishy under her feet, and she knew the wilderness was no place for her. She and Derek had nothing connecting them together anymore, other than law. Why stay?

Mark understood her; he got where her head was, and didn't try to change her mind about it. He rarely rolled his eyes at her, or got tired of seeing her face. So why was she left paralyzed outside a tiny trailer in the pouring rain? Derek Shepherd. Goddamn Derek kept her from moving on. Addison was trying to go forward while stuck in reverse. He plagued her with memories of the past and delusional hopes for the future. Thirteen years of being in love with him kept her in her place on the soggy ground. The same lovely shoes Mark had bought for her last Christmas were now drenched, covered with mud and pieces of grass—both Mark and Derek had left their marks on her. She was drawn to both of them, and now when it came to her decision, the answer wasn't easily being made—it couldn't be. When she had stood in the elevator, just she and Mark, the choice seemed obviously clear. But now, with sweet Derek so close to her, right inside that godforsaken trailer, all the indecisiveness came flooding back. _Mark, Derek; Derek, Mark. _It was tearing Addison to shreds, and she didn't know how to make the echoes in her head stop. For a woman in love with two, there was utterly no rest.

Breathing in the misty air, she tried to find her strength. Find some way to walk up to that door and ask Derek to sign the divorce papers. She wanted to be free of Seattle and in some ways of Derek himself, but a small section in the back of her mind complicated that otherwise clear plan. Mark was going to be her future, right? That's where her future had to be; where she wanted it to be. So why couldn't she get the image of her and Derek together five years from now out of her head? Addison knew what to expect with Derek; knew he could commit. Granted, sometimes that commitment came with vacant stares and lonely nights—but he was always there—some way or another.

Recalling the nights she had spent alone in their house, completely in the dark save for the Yankee Candle she lit in the living room, made her feel all of the agony again. It forced her to remember why she had gone running to Mark—why she had craved him in the first place. She knew how difficult it was to be a surgeon; so did Mark. Yet he, unlike Derek, found a way to make time for her—for poor little Addison, lost and alone in a loveless marriage. She was bitter now, full of hate and abandonment. That anger fueled her body, forcing her feet up to the trailer door. She knocked on it harshly.

She didn't know why she was knocking. It was technically her house too. But she couldn't think that way. Addison had to keep her distance if she wanted to be a Montgomery instead of a Shepherd.

The door opened carefully, and Derek looked at her utterly confused. His tender face made her icy heart begin to melt. _Stop it._ "Addison," he said hesitantly, "what are you knocking for?" Derek looked his wife up and down, the crease in between his eyebrows growing deeper. "And why are you soaking wet?"

Addison licked her lips. She couldn't remember the last time he'd paid that much attention to her. Something had to be wrong in paradise with Meredith for him to even truly look at her. Let alone care. She brushed her hand over her hair, feeling how the strands stuck together tightly because of the water. Her color was probably close to brown now. Her heart began to beat faster. One of the first things Derek had ever said to her was how much he loved her hair color—and now even that was gone. Addison had no way to compete for his love; and she certainly had no way of winning it. She knew this is what she had to do.

"I need you to sign the divorce papers," she said rather quietly. She could hardly look at him, and there was no firmness in her stare. Keeping the image of Mark in her head, she felt her confidence building. His smile, his eyes, his endearing lips… they kept Addison from falling back into Derek's trap.

Derek leaned his weight on the door, confusion and shock clouding his deep blue eyes. His lips tried several different forms, attempting to find the one to fit the occasion. But this was no occasion he could ever prepare for. Addison could see the hurt on his face, and it genuinely surprised her. She had anticipated him to hold back a smile as he eagerly signed on the dotted line. But here Derek was, needing the front door of his trailer for support. If she looked closely, Addison could see actual pain—genuine pain making creases in his forehead. He _cared_. In this moment. She had to remember it wasn't always like this. Sooner or later Derek would want Meredith back, and she would simply be the barrier in the way of that. _Remember that, Addison; remember that before you walk back in to that trailer. _

"Wh—what? Why?" Derek's tone was flustered, and he ran a hand through his thick hair. His eyes darted all over his surroundings, never finding peace. He looked about ready to pace anxiously back and forth for hours. Addison held in a giddy smile. That's what he did when something he was truly invested in went south. That's what he did when he cared. She tapped her heel against the metal porch below her feet, and the clicks of the Jimmy Choos reminded her of Mark. He was waiting for her; waiting for her with love. Addison was about ready to pull her hair out. But she kept the image of the lone Yankee Candle in her mind to keep her position firm. She had to divorce Derek.

"This is what you've wanted since you found out about me and Mark, Derek. Don't make this difficult now." Her stern tone made her muscles feel stronger, and she could see her future with Mark almost crystal clear now. But then Derek gave her that look. That puppy-dog look, with his nose a little pink and his eyes a tad watery. She'd always had a weakness for that look. "Why now? Why do you care now?" She was almost whispering now, and she wasn't even sure if he could hear her over the rain.

Derek hesitated, running a finger along the outline of his chin. He was in pensive thought, and began to pace now, taking his weight off of the door. It swung freely, lightly; Addison clutched it with her left hand, unwilling to let it swing. It couldn't. She didn't quite know why, but that trailer door swinging made her tense up significantly. It held the faint memory of something—something long since gone.

"We're working things out, Addie," Derek told her feebly. The tone made her chest tingle, until she remembered: remembered that it was Mark who had first called her Addie. He'd gotten Derek in the habit of doing it too. It was Mark's name for her, and now Derek was trying to use it to save his marriage with her. "Eleven years of marriage doesn't just end. That's why I didn't sign the papers earlier. I want to try, Addison, I do. I'm committed to figuring out a way to make this work. I thought you were too."

Addison sighed deeply, placing the back of her right hand on her forehead. She pressed a bit of her knuckle to her skull, trying to find the sanity to think. She'd gotten herself into such a terrible bind, she couldn't even find words. Not even words of confusion. All she could hear was _Mark, Derek; Derek, Mark. _The names pranced and prodded, dragging dagger-like pains all over her brain.

"You still look at Meredith like she's the one you want. I see the glances you give to her—they're not nothing; they're not just friendly. You still love her, Derek. And as long as you do, we have nothing to fix here. Whether you've realized it or not, you've moved on." The words were painful for her to say. Painful, because she finally had to accept them as the truth. Addison couldn't pretend anymore—it wasn't feasible.

Anxious anger rose within Derek; Addison could see it clearly. His eyes grew darker—she'd always thought it was a myth that people's eyes can actually do that, but it was happening right in front of her. A tiny part of her grew nervous; very nervous. She knew he'd never hurt her, but the way he was looking at her now, anything seemed possible. He stepped closer to her, parts of his hair getting drenched from the rain. It was only then that Addison realized she was still standing out in it. Her makeup must be a train wreck of blackness by now, with no distinctive beginnings or endings.

Derek reached out and touched her forearm tenderly. It was a dramatic change—and his eyes were still darker than normal. "Addison, you are my wife. I still love you. Even though every part of my body is telling me to move on, I can't. You're Addison, and I'm Derek. That's how it's supposed to be. I'm not ready to let that go just yet." He sounded genuine, the words seemed genuine, but Addison couldn't be sure. Mark had just come into town—Derek couldn't deny that had an effect on him. She didn't want to go back with him if he was just resurrecting his power-struggle with Mark. She couldn't take it if she was just some object to be won and then placed in the attic.

"You don't even wear your ring, Derek," Addison replied tiredly. "How am I supposed to take you seriously if you can't even keep your ring on? It's one of the simplest things to do, and you can't even do it. Please don't tell me about wanting to fix us. Just sign the papers. You can go back to Meredith, and I can—" _and I can go back to Mark. _She couldn't say it. Something kept the words lodged in her throat. Derek just seemed so tender right now; she didn't want to break him. Not while he was fighting to keep her. She twisted her ring around her finger. Derek's eyes flickered down to her movement, and he bit his lip. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a little round piece of gold. He held it up to her.

"I have it with me every day," he told her simply. "I just don't wear it because—because I 'm not sure how committed you are. Tell me, Addison, tell me you want to fix this too." Derek was pleading with her now. It was a dramatic role reversal for them, and Addison felt the pain of new and old wounds well up in her chest. She hadn't realized how hard it was to be the person being pleaded to.

"I slept with your best friend, Derek," she said almost bitterly, "and you're begging for me back? Just three months ago you were throwing me out of our house. And now you want me to stay… to stay and fix things?" She rubbed her temples with her right hand, her left still firmly gripping the trailer door.

Derek sighed. "At least come inside and fight about this. You don't want to catch a cold." Addison couldn't understand him. Not a single bit. There had been so much hate in him, so much anger, and so much pain. And now he was ushering her inside so she wouldn't get sick? No one could ever accuse Derek Shepherd of being predictable. Addison could hear Mark's laugh in the back of her head though, and it kept her outlook in place. Derek was the past, Mark is the future.

"No," she said with a jerk. "No. Just tell me right here, right now, why you are so set on fixing this." Derek was tearing her to shreds; literally picking at her piece by piece until there was nothing left. Was this some kind of cruel joke of his? Some twisted form of payback?

"I saw the way you looked at Mark today," Derek said, "and all I wanted was for you to look at me like that. We've both made mistakes, Addie. No one is innocent here. All we can do is move forward, and I want to do that with you." He crossed his arms, stepping away from the door, so she could walk inside. Her right foot took a step forward, and she caught a glance of the black tip of her shoe. _Mark, Addison, you belong with Mark. _

"I can't start fresh with you when your driving factor is the way I looked at Mark. I just—I can't do that." She stepped away from the door, her body itching to go back down the tiny stairs. "Just sign the papers. You can give them to me tomorrow." Crossing her arms, she backed away from him entirely, and went back down the stairs.

A part of her wanted Derek to call out to her—beg her to stay. But she couldn't allow herself to think that way—it would lead her nowhere good. She picked up her pace.

"Addison!" Derek's frantic voice caught Addison's attention, and she turned around quickly. He ran to her, his perfectly cut blue sweater getting drenched. Uncrossing her arms, she waited as he made his way to her. Eyes glistening, cheeks red, he took her left hand in his. "I love you, Addison. I love you for your wit, and your charm, and your smarts. I love you because you make me feel like—like me. We fight, we don't see eye to eye, but that's how it's supposed to be sometimes. I don't want to give up on us, because if I don't give this a fair shot, I'll regret it forever."

Addison felt herself shaking. She saw Mark's eyes in Derek's, Derek's in Mark's. She'd wrapped herself in such a terrible web, she didn't see any way out. Not even one, horribly hard to get out of, way. She'd never known what it felt like to have her entire world crash down around her until now. It was a tragic scene, and Derek was looking at her with such dedication. _No, not again. _

"Derek, I don't want fixing our marriage to be some duty. You have the papers—just sleep on it, and we can talk tomorrow, alright? Right now, I just—I need time to think." She was shivering now, partly from adrenaline, partly from the cold. Addison was being pulled in two very different directions, and she was in too deep with both of them to leave. She couldn't leave. She loved Mark, she loved Derek. There was no easy decision, no clear cut winner. Addison realized that love was a bloody mess, scrambled, with hazy lines, and hard to mend wounds. _Mark, Derek; Derek, Mark…_

* * *

Right after I wrote the last chapter, I just had to write this one. I absolutely adore the Mark/Addison/Derek love triangle, and I truly love her with both of them. Sorry if Derek's reaction was somewhat out of character for him, but I needed it for the plot line (which I'm still figuring out, so if you have ideas, that would be marvelous) and for my own delusional ships. Why do I always have to pick the couples that are doomed? Sigh. Anyway, I really hope you liked chapter two!

_Reviews are love!_


	3. The Old College Try

_Where We Love is Home_

_Three_

'_The Old College Try'_

Addison was utterly drenched when she walked into her hotel room. All she wanted was to fall down onto her bed, digging her head into the soft pillows— the Westin always did have the most luxurious— but she couldn't. The initial adrenaline of seeing Derek was gone, and she couldn't stand being wet. She felt cold, her hair was odd against her skin, and she just felt—not presentable. If there was one lesson her mother had taught her which stuck with her, it was that appearance matters. Addison had tried for so long to disagree with that, but as life piled on more and more experiences, it became harder to deny. It was her only defense now. Derek, despite his Lifetime movie-esque speech, had lost interest in her personality long ago. She hadn't been enough for him. Living in Seattle now, she'd minimized herself to a one-dimensional portrait of who she used to be back in New York—she wouldn't invest too much. She couldn't invest too much. If she got attached to this place and Derek left her, leaving would become heartbreaking; Addison had to stay defensive. But now everything had changed—that plan was pounded into nothing. Derek apparently wanted to fight for their marriage; Mark was willing to stay in Seattle if that was what she wanted. Staying unattached had failed miserably, and it wasn't even completely her doing. There had to be some curse here. The rain had to have some mystical power for Derek to change his mind so suddenly, and for her to be hesitant to leave. There had to be some compelling voodoo to make Mark come all the way across the country—and to _Seattle_ of all places. Mark hated the rain. Addison had lost count of how many times he'd stayed up with her to watch a thunderstorm, or listen to the pitter-patter of the rain. It was their tradition for the nights Derek was late coming home—it was her medicine for the pain. Rain had always calmed Addison; it seemed to take away the burdens. But now, it wasn't only that—now the rain was forever tied with Mark. Maybe that's way Seattle was so much like home to her.

Tugging her wet jacket off, she heard a knock at the door. She froze. _Who the hell could that be? _Throwing the heavy piece of clothing onto the chair in front of her, she turned and made her way to the door. Looking through the peephole, she recognized the blue eyes in a second. Opening the door slowly, she looked at Mark in confusion.

"How did you—" she began, utterly puzzled. Furrowing her eyebrows, she shook her head. Mark was standing in front of her, a cute little smile on his face. Was she missing something here?

"My room's down the hall," he explained casually, "and I saw you walk in here." Giving a little shrug, he let his eyes travel to the room behind Addison, hinting for her to let him in.

"Of course it is," she sighed, opening the door a bit wider, and stepping away from the threshold so he could walk in. He gave her a little nod in thanks, before making his way to the bed and sitting down on it.

"So I take it you told him, huh?" Mark gestured to the hotel room around them, touching on the fact that she was not sleeping in the trailer with Derek tonight. "Did you tell him while in a swimming pool or something?" Mark laughed a little, looking at her soaked body. The comment didn't even faze her. There was too much on her mind for it to even fully resonate with her. Putting her hands on her hips and closing the door with her back, she dropped his gaze. What was she going to tell him? That her husband had begged and pleaded with her to stay, and that she was considering doing so? Was she to tell Mark that she wasn't positive her feelings for Derek were gone? There was no easy way to tell Mark, without lying. She most certainly could not do that. Lying about leaving her husband was not something logical, or even feasible. If there was ever a lie to be debunked, this was certainly the easiest.

"Mark," she began slowly, raising her eyes to meet his once more, "he didn't take it like I thought he would. He wants to try and fix things." Tapping her shoe on the carpet, she licked her lips. "He wouldn't sign the papers."

Adjusting his position on the bed, Mark gave her a look somewhere between frantic and skeptical. His eyes had always been so full of emotion—it was something Addison loved wholeheartedly about him. But right now, she wished she couldn't see how he felt. He looked as if she'd just told him she'd killed his dog.

"Okay," he replied in thought, "well, then you ask him again. What did you—what did you tell him?" Mark seemed to genuinely fear her response to the question, and Addison could feel the tenseness in the room. He really, honestly, truly, fully, wholly, and devotedly loved her. His look rivaled all of Derek's words to her outside of the trailer. That place was only built for one, anyway. She would never feel completely at home there.

Addison walked closer to him, wanting to fall to her knees and cry. She had no idea what she really wanted. One minute it was Mark; the next Derek. It was a vicious cycle she couldn't find an exit route for. "I told him to sleep on it," she said quietly, and Mark looked up at her.

"I feel a 'but' coming on," Mark replied. Addison felt herself sinking into the carpet. Fiddling with the ring on her finger, she didn't know what to say. If she told him she was hesitant to leave Derek, she didn't know how he would reply. If she lied, the guilt would consume her. There was no winning for Addison Montgomery-Shepherd.

"God," she breathed, "I don't know. He wants to fix things, Mark. Derek is willing to try and make things better. I just—after eleven years, I can't ignore something like that." She felt all of the horrible feelings overtaking her. The feelings she had felt leaving Mark in New York. The potential of Derek was too appealing to pass up; but Mark, Mark was past potential. He was here, in the moment, showing her how loving he could be. But the image of what Derek _could _be still haunted her. It haunted her in a way which made Addison want to stand her ground and run, all at the same time.

"You're not honestly going to fall for that, are you?" Mark was bitter. Growing hurt and bitter. "Since the moment you got here, you've been trying to fix things. And has Derek tried at all?" Addison bit her cheek. "No, didn't think so. He's hurt you too much, and too often, Addie. Why would you want to go through all of that again?"

He had a point. A very important and prominent point. Derek had left her out in the cold too many times for her to be okay with, and Mark had always been the one to pick up the pieces. Her choice should be simple: leave Derek, and be happy with Mark. That's all she wanted to do, in all honesty. But she felt an obligation to Derek; a loving obligation, to try and fix things, before resorting to divorce. She wasn't as strong as she'd like herself to be. Well, at least when it came to Mark and Derek.

"I don't," she admitted. "But I feel it's my duty to at least give him a chance. He's my husband, Mark, and as much as I love you, there's some importance to that status. I wouldn't be me if I didn't try." Addison felt heartless and naïve. Mark was ready to love her, ready to commit—and she was backing away from all of that. She risked losing him forever if she tried this with Derek…

"The old college try, huh?" His words bit her like piercing fangs full of venom. Addison couldn't blame him for reacting like this. She'd be concerned if he'd replied any other way. But that didn't lessen how much it hurt. She was stupid, and she knew it. She'd said yes to Mark, and now she was pulling back. He didn't deserve this.

"I can't walk away from this without knowing I've done everything I could." Running a hand through her drying hair, she looked at him sadly. "I know it sounds crazy, and you don't deserve any of it. But he's my husband; no matter what either of us have done, that hasn't changed yet."

"So what do you expect me to do: sit here and wait for you like a good little boy? I'm tired of these games, Addison. You have to make a choice; and right now, it seems a hell of a lot like you're making it." His jaw was clenched tightly, and she could clearly see the sharp outlines of his features. He was beautiful, and everything she'd ever wanted. Walking over to the bed, she sat next to him. He moved away from her a bit, until she grabbed his arm.

"I want you Mark, really, I do. But I'd rather give you my whole heart, than only three-quarters of it." Her mouth was dry, and she was becoming nervous. Even though Mark loved her, that didn't mean he'd stay. Right now, she was giving him no solid reason to. She began to brace herself for the worst.

"And what happens if you fall madly in love with him again?" Mark glared at her, yet didn't take his arm out of her grasp. "I can't wait here as you experiment with Derek. If you want me, take me now. I won't be the second choice; I won't be your safety net anymore."

"I know, I know," Addison whispered, and she instinctively laid her head on his shoulder. It was so powerful, so protective. She couldn't leave him—couldn't let him go. Derek's words echoed in the back of her mind, and she pushed them into a corner. No matter how hard she tried or would try, Derek wasn't hers anymore; he loved Meredith. And though that was a sad reality to deal with, she didn't care as much as she had originally thought. Meredith could have him; Mark was all Addison needed. He listened to the rain with her; knew all of her favorite things; flew across the country for her. There was nothing more she could ask for, and nothing more she wanted. "I want you, Mark. I'll ask Derek to sign the papers again in the morning."

She felt Mark's muscles stiffen and then relax. He kissed her on the top of the head, and she snuggled deeper into his shoulder. For the first time, she was with Mark without feeling the weight of her attachment to Derek.

"Thank you," he said quietly, with the release of many pent up emotions. Mark wrapped his arm around Addison's small form, and held her close. He could hear the rain beginning to start, as it hit the window—this time, there wasn't any pain to be lulled; only love to be cherished. All that loomed in the way of their relationship was Derek; and they'd have to face him tomorrow.

* * *

I was so nervous writing this chapter, but I hope it turned out okay. I don't know how much longer this story is going to be—I don't want to drag it out too long. I'd love to know your thoughts on plot, so please tell me your ideas! Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, and added this story to their favorites. It really means the world to me.

It takes me hours to write these chapters, but only seconds for you to review, so please, please do. I need/love the input.

_Reviews are love!_


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